Crossing Wards
by Lily Michelle
Summary: Lives change when wards are crossed. HD, WIP, slash. Beta'd by Katherine.
1. In which wards are crossed

Notes: This idea has been on my mind since HBP first came out, so now I'm giving it a try. It will be H/D and it might get to R rating. For now, it's not. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome; flames are highly frowned upon. 

As usual, anything recognizable belongs to JK Rowling and affiliates.

Part One

The house was quiet when the perimeter wards went off. They weren't a loud beeping or anything that noticeable; just a soft red flashing in the corner of the three inhabitants eyes.

They had been sitting in the kitchen at the time, discussing tactics and strategies over tea. When the red flashing started they shared worried looks before the one closest to the door stood up.

"I'll go," he said.

The other two stood up quickly.

"You can't, Harry. Let me go, or Ron," the girl argued.

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione. It's my turn. You two checked the last two times. It's probably just a cat again. Don't worry."

Then, he turned, grabbed the invisibility cloak from the cloak rack and disappeared out the door. The red light disappeared from their vision, and Hermione knew Harry had reset the wards.

Outside, Harry crept through the bushes surrounding the rundown shack. He knew that it was dangerous, so he had his wand at the ready. He wouldn't find a Muggle out here. The Muggle repelling charm worked just like it should. He also knew that despite his previous comments, it wouldn't be a cat. He had changed the wards to stop reacting unless the animal was an Animagus, unbeknownst to Hermione. He was almost positive that whatever set off the wards was either a wizard or a witch.

Harry crept to the edge of the wards and began to follow them. That was the procedure he, Hermione and Ron had decided on. Go to the edge of the wards and work towards the house in concentric circles.

Harry couldn't help but let his mind wander as he snuck along the wards. He thought back to how they had ended up here. He supposed it began at Dumbledore's funeral, when he first proposed the idea. It was on the train ride home that the details were ironed out. After lots of shouting, refusals and tears, it was decided that Harry would stay at the Dursleys until Bill and Fleur's wedding, after which the three of them would go to Godric's Hollow. When they arrived, they found the house that Harry had lived in as a baby. It was mostly just a cellar with little bits of walls here and there and lots of rubble. It seemed that no one had rebuilt it or demolished it completely. Harry thought it was understandable after what had happened there.

In the end they found an old abandoned shack out behind the graveyard where Harry's parents were buried. Since Bill and Fleur's wedding had been the day after Harry's birthday, they were all seventeen and could legally use magic. Hermione had shrunk a lot of very useful books to bring with them and in them they had found the Muggle repelling charm and the spell for the wards.

Harry wasn't fond of the two bedroom one bathroom cottage, but he certainly didn't want to fight Death Eaters for it. As Harry crept around in the bushes, he prayed it was someone on their side.

Just as he finished that thought, the bushes ahead of him moved and he heard a groan. He was only a few meters from the edge of the wards, but his wand was ready. He peeked around the bushes and his eyes widened. Lying face down on the ground on the other side was a black robed figure, barely moving. As he snuck closer, he realized that what he had taken for an erratic pattern of dark blotches were really blood stains, and that the person's hands were similarly colored. The figure let out another groan, this time more quietly. Harry rushed towards them, still wary, but he was pretty sure this person wasn't in a state to overpower him. Carefully, he turned the figure over onto their back.

"Malfoy?" he whispered angrily. For it was indeed Draco Malfoy, lying half on Harry's lap and bleeding profusely.

The boy opened his eyes a little and groaned in pain. He squinted and a flash of recognition and relief crossed his face.

"Harry," he whispered. "Help me…"

Then he sunk into unconsciousness.


	2. In which healing begins

Part Two

Harry gaped, frozen in place. What was he supposed to do? This was _Malfoy_, for heaven's sake. On the other hand, this was someone asking for help, someone dying. It was still Malfoy, but he was dying. Even if Malfoy was supposed to kill Dumbledore (though he couldn't in the end), Harry wasn't about to let anyone die on his watch. Especially someone who had asked for his help and who hadn't done anything to him… at least, not recently.

Harry whipped his wand in the complicated motion Hermione had shown him to check for spells. The distinctive blue light of tracking spells did not show up, but there were several shades of puce green light that told of pain inducing spells. Harry frowned and made up his mind. Malfoy wasn't going to die like this, not if Harry had anything to say about it.

He gritted his teeth, grabbed Malfoy under his arms and lifted with his knees. Malfoy was lighter that Harry had expected. Instead of dragging, like he had planned, Harry decided he could carry Malfoy to the cottage. It wasn't really that far and they were still in the wards. Harry rearranged his grip on Malfoy and picked him up. He tried not to think about how it was _Malfoy_ that he was carrying bridal style.

Making his way to the cottage as quickly as he could, while still staying hidden, was difficult with his burden. He tried to think of how to explain the situation to Ron and Hermione, but before he'd come up with anything, he was at the front door and walking into the hall. He was greeted by two upraised wands, followed by gasps of shock and outrage. Hermione was shocked; Ron was simply outraged.

"Oh my goodness, Harry! What's happened?"

"What the bloody hell is Malfoy doing here?"

Harry sighed. "There's no time for that. Ron, help me get him into my room. Hermione, grab your medical magic book and hurry."

Harry walked quickly to his room and opened the door without Ron's help, as the redhead was still standing by the door. He maneuvered Malfoy onto the bed and made sure none of his limbs were bent awkwardly. Hermione rushed into the room with the book and Ron trailed in behind her. She hovered by the bed and looked hesitantly at Harry.

"Harry, what are we doing?" she asked.

Harry looked at her in surprise. He had known that Ron would kick up a fuss, but he hadn't expected Hermione to balk at saving someone.

"We're saving someone's life, Hermione," he said. His voice sounded more panicked and closer to hysterical that he thought it would. Malfoy was getting paler by the minute and the blood stains were getting bigger and darker.

His quick response spurred Hermione into action. Her strong moral code would not let her stand by and watch someone die in her own home. She rushed to the bed and uttered the spell to remove Malfoy's clothes, so she could inspect the damage.

"There are still spells on him, 'Mione," Harry said, as she examined Malfoy's wounds. Hermione nodded and began looking up the charm that negated most hexes on patients.

Ron was standing by the door looking astonished and getting angrier by the second.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" he yelled.

"I said, we're saving someone's life, Ron," Harry said, his patience coming to its end.

"It's bloody _Malfoy_, Harry. Who cares? Throw the git outside and be done with it."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "We can't just let him die. He didn't attack us or anything. Besides, he asked for my help."

"So?" Ron said loudly, going red in the face. "What does it matter if he dies? Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "We may not like him, but he has a right to live. If he asked Harry for help, then we can't just leave him. It would be wrong."

"He wouldn't help you, if you asked," Ron argued.

Hermione sniffed and turned back to her patient. "That's exactly why we should help him. We wouldn't want to sink to his level. Besides, what's the point of fighting_ for_ good, if we can't even _be_ good to others?"

Ron didn't have an answer for that, so he just slouched against the wall and sulked. Harry turned from Ron to look at Hermione, who was still searching for the cancellation spell. Harry was getting nervous as he daubed at the blood still seeping from Malfoy's wounds.

"Hurry up, Hermione. He's dying."

"I've got it, Harry. Calm down. I know he's dying, for goodness sake."

With that, she waved her wand and spoke the incantation. Nothing seemed to happen, so she recast the identification spell. The puce green light did not shine. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry," Hermione said in her 'I'm taking charge so you'd better do exactly as I say' tone. "Go and get the antiseptic salve and the pain relieving potion from the bathroom first aid."

Harry nodded and rushed out of the room. He grabbed the bottles and ran back, skirting round Ron who was now looking a little more interested in their progress. Hermione took the salve and began to apply it, while instructing Harry to feed the pain reliever to Malfoy. Harry had spent so much time in the hospital wing at Hogwarts and reading up on medical magic over the summer that the task was done quickly and efficiently. The lines on Malfoy's face softened and Harry knew the potion was kicking in. He breathed another sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Hermione had been applying the antiseptic salve and casting charms to stop the bleeding. Harry stood back and watched, waiting for more instructions. Soon, Hermione had finished, and the wounds had almost stopped bleeding. She turned to Harry and sighed.

"All I have to do now is set this broken arm," she said.

"So, he'll be okay?" Harry asked..

Hermione shrugged. "It's hard to tell. He's lost a lot of blood, so we'll have to wait and see. I wish we had some blood replenisher."

Harry latched onto the hope that Malfoy's body was strong enough to make it through, even though it didn't look very strong at the moment. The boy was even more pale than usual, and he looked surprisingly fragile, lying there on Harry's bed.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"You could put the kettle on for some tea," she suggested.

Harry looked at her curiously. "You think he's well enough for tea?"

Hermione laughed shortly. "The tea is for me, Harry. All those spells were hard work."

"Right," he said, feeling pretty stupid. "I'll go make tea."

--

Author's Note: A huge word of thank you goes to my beta, Katherine. She did very well. Any mistakes still here are my own.


End file.
